#I just want private private social media again but I don’t want to use twitter :( is it time to bring back private instas

[dirtbra1n]

nice

[loverboydotcom]

using tumblr blogs the same way I’d use a close friends story or private twitter not working i fear the jumpscare i get whenever there are strangers in my notifs

[propertyofwicked]

YOUR NECKLACE - LN

no warnings just fluff + some SMAU <3 (one mention of sick, no specific detail)

-> lemme know ur thoughts! my inbox is open!! <3

masterlist the playlist

after successfully keeping their relationship secret for 9 months, lando truly believed it was time for him to properly introduce his girlfriend to the world of motorsport. she’d attended races before but always under general admission, usually alone, but sometimes accompanied by the likes of max and p. and it wasn’t as if the fans didn’t know who she was, they just knew her as ‘y/n who works with quadrant’, ‘y/n that reset the cones in the driving video’, ‘y/n that keeps her social media private’ - never once being considered lando’s girlfriend, which worked well for the two.

the panic had set in that morning as she dressed for the day, her hands constantly running over her outfit, checking the way she looked in the mirror from every angle - she wanted to believe that no one would care, or even notice that she was there, but deep down she knew that making the jump from general admission to paddock would gain some chatter on twitter.

“you look perfect,” lando had whispered in her ear from behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her away from the mirror.

“maybe they’ll just think im helping with a quadrant project,” she said absentmindedly, more trying to convince herself than actually respond to him.

“maybe,” he nodded along with her, mulling over his next words, “we can walk in separately if you want? they might not assume anything if they don’t see us together?”

“it’s not that i dont want us to be seen together,” she told him as she moved to the floor, tying her shoelaces up, “i just hate to think what’ll be said about me if they do.”

“i know, angel,” he reassured her, offering out a hand to pull her up, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead when she returned to his level.

the journey to the track was a quiet one, the two of them engaging in light conversation, eventually deciding they’d just walk in together, keep PDA to the minimum and ‘run and hide at the first sign of trouble’ y/n had joked.

lando paced up and down his drivers room, the sleeves of his racing overalls swinging with every step, from where they sat around his hips. he was getting into the right mindset, music playing, and yet his mind raced with every fear of the looming race.

“sit in the garage,” he asked her, halting his pacing to turn and face her.

“what?” she replied, half unsure she’d misheard him.

“watch from the garage - please,” he repeated moving to take steps towards her, noticing the way her fingers twisted at the rings that adorned them.

“are you sure?” she checked, as he grabbed her wrists to stop her anxious fiddling.

“never been more sure in my life,” he told her, using her arms to pull himself closer, joining the two of them in a sweet kiss.

“ok, ill be there,” y/n responded against him, parting only for a moment before connecting their lips again. the kiss was short and sweet, cut off by oscar knocking telling him it was time to go.

she stood in the garage, smiling at a few engineers she recognised before finding herself a seat. the nerves were washing over her again, but now they were for lando. y/n always worried during races, scared on his crashing, worried he wouldn’t perform as well as everyone knew he could. her hand reached up to her chest, instinctively searching for her necklace - lando had bought it for her before they were even together, knowing from the moment she smiled at it and looked up to thank him that this was it for him, she was his future. but the necklace wasn’t there, the girl panicked slightly, fearing she had lost it or it had fallen off before concluding that in her distraction this morning she had simply forgotten to put it on.

that’s ok, you’re a grown woman who can control her nerves. you don’t need a necklace to calm yourself down - you’re not even the one racing she told herself, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to believe herself. no one else in the garage seemed to notice her, a fact she was fairly happy about, hoping that the same would be said for the hundreds of news and tv stations priming their cameras for the race.

but someone had noticed her, recognising the look on her face as the same one she had been wearing all morning. only lando could decipher what her expression meant - she was nervous, of course, scared for him, but also filled with a small buzz of excitement - he couldn’t quite understand how one person could feel so much all at the same time, and not combust on the spot. nevertheless he jogged over to her.

“lando? aren’t you supposed to be like, getting your helmet on?” she asked him, shocked slightly at his sudden appearance. he looked at her, his hand tugging at the top of his fireproofs and pulling his own necklace from where it was trapped behind the fabric.

“forgot to take this off,” he told her, hands moving behind his neck to unclasp the metal, “will you look after it for me?”

she nodded up at him, her outstretched hands halted as he stood close, hands moving the metal around her own neck and clasping it. the metal dropped against her skin, the warmth from him wearing it transferring to her.

“thanks, love you,” he told her, a rushed kiss planted on her lips before he jogged away from her again.

his face carried a smirk as he left her, knowing he hadn’t truly forgotten to take the piece of jewellery off. in actual fact, he’d noticed her missing necklace the moment they’d arrived at the track and made it his mission to have his own hung around her neck, almost as a badge of honour. the two had agreed to keep their relationship private from the public, somewhat of a secret - but now she sat in his garage, wearing his necklace. it was the bare minimum display of the love they shared, but it was enough for him, and it was enough for her.

oscar quirked his eyebrow at his teammates smirk, receiving a quick tell you later before the two pulled their balaclavas down.

the gesture was so simply and so subtle and the girl was oblivious to the moment being caught on camera. the moment a yellow flag was called, the sky tv cameras filled the wait time by zooming in on the faces of loved ones sitting in each drivers garage. however, y/n remained oblivious to the lens focusing closely on her, the camera closely capturing the way she fiddled at the necklace before dropping it as normal lap conditions resumed.

"good day then?" y/n asked him softly, her head resting on his bare chest as she listened to his heart beat - lando felt the way her cool fingers fiddled with the necklace around his neck. that godforsaken necklace, quite frankly the only necklace to ever cause so much uproar online.

"soft launched on live tv and p3? i wouldn't have it any other way," lando replied softly, chucking lightly as his hand brushed through her hair.

“that checks out, mr nowins,” she teased, tilting her head to grin at him.

"being with you is a win in itself," he replied, taking the nickname in his stride.

"gross," the girl responded, pretending to vomit at his attempt at being cute.

“i am sorry though - i should’ve known that would happen, i should’ve checked with you before hanging the “lando’s girlfriend” sign around your neck,” he replied with a sigh, his head dropping to press a kiss to her forehead, his cheek resting on her head as they spoke.

“it’s ok lan, i knew there was a possibility of something like this happening,” she replied.

“and it was fairly subtle - we could probably play it off for a little longer,” lando suggested, knowing that neither of them were quite ready to expose the extent of their relationship just yet. at least this had given them the opportunity to be a little more careless with their efforts to hide from the public. they were private, not secret, and lando couldn’t be happier to preserve this part of his personal life for a little longer.

“im just glad we no longer have the responsibility of a big announcement,” she laughed, “god knows we’re both too lazy for that.”

“who’s we?” he grumbled jokingly, “im the one with the public account. besides, im more than hard launched on your page.”

“ah the joys of an ordinary life,” y/n joked, her arms stretching out in feigned bliss, “however i feel like i should steer clear of twitter for a while.”

“that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, his tone saddening slightly at the memory of things he’d seen posted about not only his ex girlfriend, but some of the claims people had already began making about the girl lying below him.

“hey!” she started noticing his change in mood, and pushing her body weight back to look at him, “none of that. today is a good day. trust me, ill take any excuse to get my screentime down.”

“i love you,” he told her, grabbing at her body to pull her back into his embrace, “more than you could imagine.”

liked by maxfewtrell, team_quadrant and 111,230 others

landonorris soft launching on live tv wasn't enough, time to promote her to the gram

comments on this post have been limited.

maxfewtrell so glad i dont have to worry about slipping up on stream anymore

-> maxfewtrell chat aren't ready for what i have to say.

maxfewtrell 2nd photo is a violationnn - ynpng, pietra.pilao u gonna let this slide?

-> ynpng am i fuck. pietra.pilao we ride at dawn.

-> pietra.pilao omw queen.

-> maxfewtrell run landonorris whilst u still can

-> pietra.pilao you told me you deleted that photo maxfewtrell - sleep with one eye open xx

ynpng hate u with every fibre of my being rn <3

-> landonorris nuh uh

-> ynpng gonna unprivate my acc and let the world see the video of you falling down the stairs

-> landonorris might accidentally leak the video of you and the shoe incident

-> ynpng you wouldn't dare.

-> landonorris you wanna bet?

[azuremist]

A message to Twitter users coming to tumblr: a message from your local duel-hellsite citizen

So, I’ve seen a ton of Twitter users talking about making and sharing their new tumblr blogs, to escape Elon Musk’s “anti censorship” bullshittery. First of all: welcome! I know it’s looking bleak over there; especially for trans people. But, now that you’re here, I’m here to tell you all about tumblr etiquette, how this website works, and how it’s different from Twitter. Because you can’t come onto here acting like it’s Twitter, lest The Beast get to you.

First, here are a small handful of tips and tumblr facts!

Your likes and who you are following are automatically set to public. You can make them private in your settings!

You can block tags from the settings, too.

There are lots of bots on here. If you’re not careful, you could be mistaken for one! The main way you can avoid this is changing your icon and header from the defaults. Adding a bio helps too!

You can queue and schedule posts so that your account posts throughout the day.

Like Twitter, tumblr has a radical feminist and TERF problem. However, they’re pretty easy to spot. There are lots of guides out there to help you learn how to spot tumblr TERFs!

Tumblr, for the most part, does not have any celebrity or brand accounts.

Your tumblr follower count is private.

You can have multiple accounts with the same email, and they’re very easy to switch between! These are called “sideblogs”.

Your main page is not a “timeline”. It is a “dashboard”!

You can have a custom desktop theme using HTML! Think like ye olde MySpace days. There are tons of pre-made tumblr themes available, if you’re not already proficient in HTML; including free ones!

Now, let’s talk tumblr etiquette and how it’s different from Twitter. You’re a tumblr user now! It’s time to start acting like it!

Don’t just like posts. They don’t increase visibility whatsoever. The way that you can help posts that you like is reblogging them to your blog. Especially for art!

We don’t say “oomfs” or “oomfies”. Just “mutuals” is fine, thanks!

Adding onto a post with pointless comments is frowned upon. If all you have to say is “this is so true,” or something else to that effect, you should put that in the tags of your reblog.

Most people don’t have carrds or rentries on here. Some of us do, but it’s not an obligation like it is for Twitter.

Similarly, we don’t censor words like “die” and “death”. Posts about wanting to brutally murder people in power go viral all the time, and it’s completely allowed. I’m serious! Enjoy your newfound freedom!

Blocking isn’t a big deal here. Get rid of any weird notion you have that morality is linked to blocking certain people.

But lastly, and most importantly:

Drop your discourse at the door.

If you try to post about most of the things that Twitter users discourse about, you will be laughed off the site. Especially Twitter LGBT+ discourse. Posts actively mocking topics of Twitter discourse go viral on here regularly.

Tumblr has mostly healed since its discourse-ridden days, and it’s now much more chill. Of course, discourse still happens, but it is so easy to avoid now. For a lot of us, tumblr is the last pleasant social media site left, so don’t ruin it.

Here is a list of discourse-related things that tumblr users don’t do:

Most of us don’t do callout posts, unless it’s something actually serious (like that one blog that had a human slave).

Everything that you heard on Twitter was “exclusive” to certain LGBT+ groups is used by just about everyone on here. Bi women use the double venus symbol on here. You’ll just have to learn to live with that.

In particular, I want to emphasize how much we don’t do flag discourse. To the point that somebody caring about flag discourse of any kind is how we tend to identify an ex-Twitter user.

On here, you will never have to see another slur discourse post again, unless you actively seek it out.

You’re free.

You’re welcome. And enjoy your time on here! If you have the time, please consider watching StrangeÆons’ Tumblr Etiquette Manual on YouTube, as well.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 5 - Meet The Adams Family

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

The first thing you’d done when you woke up, still somehow in the Wayne manor, was pull out not-your phone and check the date. When it tells you that you are not, in fact, in some weird version of a time loop, you feel some measure of relief. The second thing you do is look your own damn name up on Google. There were over 3 million results. You have a Wikipedia page. If that hadn’t made you want to gag, the press from last night had you bumbling your way into the ensuite bathroom and puking into the toilet.

It’s still sitting on the bathroom floor, nauseous and achy and sweaty, your mouth washed out but still tasting foul, that you continue your research.

It’s just as you had suspected, your family was dead. Still dead. Well, shit. In the light of day, you supposed that made more sense. That there was no real reason to assume otherwise. You hadn’t for most of yesterday, but as soon as you’d thought that maybe there was a chance, your hopes had been dashed. Which was good, rip the bandaid off and all.

It was good. Things were good. They were fine, you were fine. You really wish you were a better liar.

Again you wash your mouth out. Root around the cabinets for some medical-grade mouthwash, do it again, and then you throw yourself into the shower. Again. You notice the soap smells like whoever’s clothes you stole. Refreshing and awakening, that mint and earth again. You think you can detect something floral in it too. It’s still masculine, but…

Wow, you are such a freak! You put down the fucking soap and manage to resist the urge to slam your head into the tiles. Your headache was bad enough already.

When you leave the bathroom, you glance at the door, and then down at your towel. Guess you’re stealing some more apparel. You find a Superman shirt, give it a judging glance, and then pick out a black T-shirt with ‘The Beatles’ across the front, and some sweatpants. You have to roll up the pant legs so you don’t trip and fall flat on your face.

One hand scrolling through Twitter and TikTok and Reddit and every single piece of social media you could find, getting the people’s source of news and you get the high overlords’ one when you turn on the huge TV attached to the wall. The remote kind of confuses you at first, but you manage to find the good ol’ Gotham news channel.

Immediately, you’re greeted by your miserable mascara-streaked face. You turn the TV off. You take a deep breath. Turn it back on. Luckily it’s not just you getting your private moment of trauma blasted open in the media. Your party had been filled with Gotham’s elite, after all. You weren’t the only rich idiot left crying by the side of the road.

You weren’t the only one who had to suffer. There had been twenty-eight casualties, in total. A small amount, considering the man behind the deaths. The Joker wasn’t known for his cleanliness. You tell yourself that, and yet still, you can’t make them just numbers. They’d been standing right next to you, after all. All in the same boat, all waiting for the axe to swing, secretly hoping you’re the one who lives to the next day. Only one of the party guests had been shot, and that’s because you think they’d personally pissed off the Joker. That’s what Twitter says, anyway. There were multiple video recordings of the altercation, and it didn’t look like he’d been the smartest banana in the bunch. The TV is a lot sweeter on the dead soul.

You feel sorry for all the dead. You still don’t think this rich heir should be the face you see, though. When you check his name, you find several forgotten assault cases. Assault, rape, just like that disappearing bastard had tried to do to you. That female janitor you’d seen shot had done more for this city than that guy ever had.

Did her family know? Did she have a family? Someone to mourn her? You’d never thought about that before. How many people out there wouldn’t have anyone to even remember them?

It’s none of your business, in the end.

After a whiles more research, you switch the TV off and tuck your cracked phone into the sweatpants. You know where your mother’s grave is, on the west side of the estate. Wikipedia knew all, which was now kind of creepy to you as it knew all about you as well. Really, you couldn’t believe it. Your mother, buried with the Waynes? You’d always thought she should find someone new, someone who’d appreciate her, unlike your father who had dipped as soon as Sam was born.

You couldn’t even remember the guy. Still, you remembered that he’d smelled bad and made your Mum do everything, and was just generally all around the worst choice for a husband.

But, Jesus Christ, Bruce Wayne? Absolute insanity. You had no idea how the two of them would’ve even met. Let alone fall in love and get married. Your mother was one of the loveliest women on earth but… they had absolutely nothing in common, other than having troublesome kids. And you hadn’t seen her getting lovey-dovey with the other PTA mums.

You walk out of the room you’ve borrowed and into the hallway. In the light of day, the Wayne manor is much less creepy, and you can find it in yourself to appreciate the antique space. Warm sunlight falls over dark oak furniture, illuminating your bare feet as you walk along the Persian rug. Your fingers trail along all the tiny little decorations, some annoying part of you demanding you leave traces of yourself behind. Your fingerprints dirty an old clock, a golden candelabra, a lamp and a tiny spinning globe.

You might’ve gotten lost in a place this huge if you couldn’t hear people’s voices floating down the halls. They were too far away for you to be able to tell what they were saying, but you could still hear them. They’re to the west, so you’re definitely going to have to go past them.

You follow the voices and eventually come to a stop in a hallway. You can smell food. Good, real food. The type that makes your instant-ramen-powered body salivate. The people are in the kitchen, right around the corner. You duck your head and quickly sneak past the mostly closed doorway. On the other side, you pause, your curious self unable to leave just yet.

“She needs help,” Bruce says, and you mentally curse. Balls. You didn’t want to hear this. You guess this was instant karma for snooping. Maybe they weren’t talking about you?

Why did that sound very unlikely…

“She went through a lot last night,” he continues, which, well, yes, you did go through a lot, “And he said that she saw a woman get shot right in front of her. It makes sense if she doesn’t want to talk yet.”

He? Who’s he? Who ratted you out? Wait, dumb question, the four other witnesses who saw the janitor get shot. You were still pretty sure the Waynes weren’t supposed to know that, but everybody knew those GCPD pigs were always just a dollar away from whatever you wanted them to do. It’s not surprising that the Waynes know details only the police should know at the moment.

…It is a bit disappointing, though. You chose to have hope in them, that they’d gotten that information legally. Your fatal obsession with the Waynes wasn’t going to disappear after one miserable party. You wished it would.

“She was acting strange before that,” Timothy Jackson Drake’s smooth voice drifts from the kitchen. You were still a little starry-eyed over him, which was… bad, you think. It’d definitely make whatever relationship the two of you had been forced into a whole lot more difficult. It did not need to be any more difficult.

“Are you accusing her of something?” Bruce Thomas Wayne’s voice is gravelly in comparison, angry, maybe. Also, ‘accusing’? What could he even be accusing you of? It was pretty obvious you weren’t capable of anything nefarious, you were far too stupid for that. You were a plastic bag drifting along the Gotham river, barely able to affect which direction you flowed in.

“God no. And I definitely wouldn’t do it with her listening, that’d be rude.”

Your breath hitches, and you push off from the wall. Busted, damn. Your face feels unbelievably hot. As you leave, you can hear Mr Wayne scolding his adopted son. You walk until you can’t hear their voices anymore, and then a little further, finding an exit door.

You stumble out onto a stone staircase, probably a servants’ one in the olden days. You move down it, hand gripping the railing. You’re barely conscious of where you’re going. There’s a path that leads away from the stone manor and further into the estate, and you follow it. When you spot a small gated area, with stone obelisks and angel statues, you veer off the path and onto the grass.

Hissing out a breath, it’s only now you realise you went outside without any shoes on. Your toes curl in the cold, wet grass. It’s a miserable feeling, and you want to walk right back inside. And then you think about the awkward conversation waiting for you, take a breath and keep going. The gates swing open easily under your hand, the golden embossed ‘W’ glinting in the light.

A guardian angel stands before you. Its stone face is disapproving, glaring down at you from above. ‘Interloper,’ it calls you, but you move past it without pausing. It’s pretty obvious which graves are the new ones and which are the old ones. They’re all clean and well-kept, but the ones to the left have dates going back hundreds of years, and the ones to the right only decades. Your eyes follow the rows of graves. Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne…

Your breath whistles out of you, nearly muffled by the grey morning wind.

And your mother. She has a different last name, now another Wayne. Your siblings don’t, which makes sense. You’re surprised to find many of your extended family also in this graveyard. Your grandmother. Your uncle and aunt. A few of your cousins.

It’s cold this morning, and you’re out here with only a thin T-shirt on. Shivering, you rub your palms against your bare arms. It doesn’t do much. Still, you don’t want to go inside yet. Instead, you crouch in front of Sam’s grave, eyes reading the tiny epitaph. It’s not the one you wrote.

‘Beloved Son and Brother.’

Simple, clean-cut, formal… unfamiliar, you suppose. Yours had been much more flowery, ‘All the colour in the world is gone without you’. It was a bit silly, but you’d never said you were a poet. You’d just known you’d wanted something that represented them, if poorly.

Sam was a beloved son and brother. But that wasn’t who he chose to be. He liked colours. He’d change his favourite every other day, so he liked everything rainbow. It made it easier to choose which one he’d like next, he said. You were always buying him more and more coloured pencils because he’d wear them all down to the tips, he dyed the cat a bright red headache, much to your mother’s horror, and considered it his personal job to make every single birthday, christmas, and easter card. He’d paint on the walls in washable markers, and you’d often been the one to volunteer to help him get it all down. In school, he always had the best art project out of the entire class, even if you were slightly biased.

He was a colourful kid. He wasn’t… a plain grey tombstone. Nothing to help remember him, because you were always losing more and more of their precious memories.

The others had similarly impersonal graves. Just what they were, not who. Mother, sister. Nothing that spoke of how they’d lived their lives, what the world had lost when they’d died. It was… you didn’t think it was right. It was a disaster, really. Even when you’d had to rely on the Wanye Foundation donations, you’d managed a better resting place than this.

You suppose you’d never gotten them into the Wayne family’s personal graveyard, though. That was a bit of an upgrade, you guess.

“You need to come back inside. You’re worrying my father.”

“Jesus Christ!” you shriek, leaping backward. Your foot catches on one of the cobblestones, and you end up tipping back farther than you mean to, your ass bruising against the ground. You bump another gravestone, and there’s a horrible moment where it gives a little and you think it’s going to knock over.

It doesn’t. A shining miracle on your day.

From your slightly wet seat on the ground, you look up, finding one such Damian Al Ghul-Wayne. His towering height is the first thing you notice, second his stunning emerald green eyes. Both were incredibly shocking in their own ways, but his height really was almost dizzying. Perfect brown skin and a stylish 'long on the top, short on the sides’ black haircut, paired with the sort of face some European model might have, all come together to make sure you feel as pathetic as possible. His posh-looking outfit doesn’t help.

Neither does the fact he just watches you. He doesn’t even pretend to bend over to help you up. Which you’re sort of grateful for, honestly. It’d just make you more embarrassed. You didn’t know if you could hold the hand of your celebrity crush and… well, be normal. Pretend to be normal. You weren’t doing a very good job of it anyway.

You have to wonder, which was the worst introduction? The drunk, the bloody, or the one where you fell on your ass? God, you really are screwing this all the way up. You wonder how you’re inevitably going to make it even worse. There’s a part of you that desperately doesn’t want to meet any of the other Waynes, even as another part of you is screaming that it needs to.

If they knew they had a fangirl in their graveyard, you’re sure they’d kick you out. That was why you were lying about everything, not because you had intimacy issues.

Stop thinking, you idiot! You’re only making things more difficult for yourself with all your worrying and fretting. And maybe you should get off the ground, you looked stupid. You push to your feet, wiping your dirtied hands on the sweats.

He still doesn’t say anything when you stand, still just staring at you. His open staring is far too intimidating, so you scrounge for something to say.

“Your father? You- Is he alright?” you stammer over your words, giving Damian Wayne an awkward smile. He doesn’t return it, instead canting his head towards one of the windows.

You look toward where Damian Wayne gestured to, find nothing but an empty window frame, and then back to the ridiculously tall man. You swear, the guy had grown like a bean pole. He had to be something ridiculous, like 6’5, or maybe more. You were fairly certain you’d been taller than him at twelve, or thirteen, whenever it was he was first introduced to the world as Damian Wayne. Now, now… not so much.

“There’s nobody in there?” you ask, like you’re questioning your sanity. You are.

“My father’s shy,” He says, coolly shrugging one shoulder.

What. Bruce Wayne? Shy? Was he joking or something?

Damian Wayne stares down at you with narrowed green eyes, and dark brows in a harsh frown. His arms are crossed over his rich kid sweater, shiny black shoes tapping against the cobbles. That’s not the face of someone who makes jokes, you think.

You swallow, mind whirring as you try desperately to fix this conversation, “Right. Okay. I’ll… I’ll come back inside, then. Sorry for bothering you guys.”

He keeps staring at you. He doesn’t seem bothered.

“Sorry for bothering him?” you correct.

Damian gives one slow, cat-like blink of his eyes, and then turns with a tsk and walks away. It takes you a moment to realise you’re meant to follow him. It takes you even longer to actually catch up with him because he’s so fucking tall.

On TV he didn’t look this tall. You feel kind of betrayed, which is weird.

As you’re walking along, getting closer back to the manor, a stick or something pokes you in the foot. You curse, grabbing your foot. Thankfully you don’t start bleeding or something. You’d already be tracking dirt all over the inside of the impeccable space, you didn’t want to bring blood in as well. It takes a moment for you to realise the sound of Damian’s footsteps crunching in the grass has stopped, and you glance up.

He’s staring right at you again. He looks even less impressed with you, raising an eyebrow and mouth ticking downward. You put your foot down and tuck your hands behind your back in a very obvious anxious display.

“You went outside not wearing any shoes?” Damian Wayne asks, incredulous.

“I was… yeah, I forgot to,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Not your best moment, but you weren’t really having any of those today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Maybe you should stop thinking about that, actually.

“That’s disgusting,” The young Wayne sneers, and then turns and gives you his shoulder.

You think your heart maybe cracks a little. Well, they do say to never meet your idols. Maybe whoever wrote that quote had you in mind specifically, because now you were in… this situation. Ex-step-sister. If that was a thing. Your Wikipedia page said that you said that a lot, very insistent that you had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes.

…It didn’t really look like you had nothing to do with the Waynes, from an outsider's perspective. Which obviously didn’t make any sense, since you were… you. You were not an outsider, not anymore.

This was too complicated. You needed a coffee. With like, so much sugar it’ll make you bounce from the walls.

Damian strides up the side entrance’s staircase and through the door, leaving it open for you to follow through. You hesitate at the doorway, looking over your shoulder to the graveyard. The statue calls you names in the distance, and although you feel like a stranger who doesn’t belong here, you manage to step back into the house.

You force yourself to walk through the hallway and into the kitchen, fists clenched tight at your side and your shoulders bunched up to your ears. Bruce Thomas Wayne, Timothy Jackson Drake, and the butler from earlier. Damian Al Ghul Wayne steps around the trio, picking some drink from the counter and moving to sit at the dining table at the edge of the room. There’s an open book on the table that he starts flicking through, and well, apparently that’s the end of your first conversation with the youngest Wayne.

You did… well, alright might be pushing it. You're still going to say you did alright.

Tim Drake gives you a sweet smile, catching your attention. The silky raven hair of his heart-shaped fringe falls over his beautiful, pale face, and for a moment there you totally forget that he’d called you out earlier like that. Which was just, such an odd thing to do. His hand lifts to scratch at the buzz cut under the floppy strands of hair. The movement mesmerises you. You look away from his sky blue eyes, very quickly realising they’re robbing you of the few remaining brain cells you have. And you need those, damn it. Especially because you’d already made the decision to hide from all your problems like a baby. Negative, negative…

“How’re you doing today?” Tim asks you, giving you a friendly greeting. It’s a welcome olive branch.

“I’m good,” you lie like you breathe, eyes glancing around the space. Bruce Wayne has his phone out and a mug of coffee in his hands. He sips from the cup, his focus swallowed by the tiny screen. You glance back over to Damian Wayne. Huh, it really does run in the family.

Your neck prickles, and you glance back at Tim again. You get a brief vision of his tired, unsmiling expression, and then it’s back to the angelic and gentle smile. You smile back at him, a wretched, awful twisting of the lips that you hope doesn’t look like a grimace.

Tim’s smile turns into a grin. It’s really too pretty and makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Damn it all, look away!

“Would you like some breakfast, young miss? I’m afraid we’ve run out of pancakes, but I’d be happy to make some more for you,” the butler says in an awfully familiar British accent. You think you know this person, but you can not remember from where. Shit. Your memory was bad on the best of days, much less after… after an event like last night.

Anyway, the food from earlier had been pancakes. Despite the delicious scent, you really didn’t want to make him make any more food for you. You felt like you were intruding as it was.

“Do you have any toast, or… cereal?” you suggest instead, wondering if rich people even bother with cereal. The butler chuckles, and you think, ‘Oh, yeah, probably not’.

“We have both, miss. Master Grayson has a particular fondness for cereal, in fact,” he informs you, which, oh, cool. You did in fact know that, you stalker you. You’d totally forgotten about that weird fact or the weird fact that you knew that weird fact. Dick Grayson has an Instagram where he posts reviews of different cereals, which of course you have notifications on for.

“It’s more of an obsession,” Tim says, resting his palm in his hand as he… continues to stare at you. Nobody else thinks his ogling is strange, so you try to ignore it as well. Try is the choice word.

“I like cereal too. It’s normal,” you say in defence of Dick, a natural and instinctual urge.

And apparently, the fact that you like cereal is fucking shocking, judging from the open-mouth looks the group gives you. Oh no, you’re supposed to hate him, right? You’re supposed to hate them all, actually. What had you called him on your phone? Something about being annoying and a dickhead?

Swallowing your inner scream, you move around the counter and towards the cupboards. Whatever, they’ll have to deal with this new and improved version of you, which didn’t despise everyone in the room. Along with being a terrible liar, you were also pretty bad at keeping secrets.

You don’t want to think about that, so instead you turn to Alfred.

“So,” you start, “Can I see your cereal collection?” you ask, like a totally normal person. Man, this cupboard’s looking pretty head-smashable right now.

This family has more tact than yours did, because they all manage to put their eyes back to what they were doing and pretend you weren’t acting really, really out of character. Rich people. They’re good at overlooking the crazy.

“Of course,” the butler clears his throat, “In here, you’ll find Master Dick’s collection-” score! Not another fan can claim this right, “-and in the fridge a carton of milk. Are you sure I couldn’t serve it for you, miss? I understand you might still be a little…”

His voice trails off. Little what?

He glances at the others and then leans in close like he’s going to tell you a secret. Behind a hand, he whispers, “Hungover.”

Ah. Well, yes, but you were a big girl who could make her cereal, even on hangover days. Kind of embarrassing it was that obvious, though. You were usually better at hiding how much of a mess you were.

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” you say, and the butler nods and backs off. You’re pretty sure at this point that he was the one who called you yesterday morning, but you still couldn’t quite recall his name. When you were out of sight, you’d check your phone for his contact information.

See? You could do this. Stealthy.

As you start perusing through the cereal options, Tim gets up from his spot by the counter and comes to stand next to you at the breakfast bar. He heads straight to the coffee machine, and you glance at it longingly.

It’s one of those cafe-quality fancy espresso makers, with an Italian name embossed in silver on the top. Tim manipulates the machine like a master, which you’re very jealous of because it might as well be alien technology to you. You miss your shitty drip coffee, at least that dingy little machine was loyal to you. Better than George.

“Coffee?” Tim Drake offers, glancing at you. Ah, the starry eyes are back. While Damian Wayne had been a mildly disappointing introduction, Mr. Drake was just reinforcing your celebrity worship. And of course, because your brain works against you, his offer reminds you of the daydreams you’d had on your first twenty-first birthday. Coffee shop au real person fiction- a new low, even for you.

Flustered, you look up at the ceiling. The old mansion is decorated in every single available corner, the plaster above spreading across the entire surface with delicate filigree and pretty curling patterns. It’s gorgeous, absolutely entrancing. That’s what you tell yourself at least.

“Please,” you say, your voice just the slightest bit too quiet. He hears you anyway.

It’s surprisingly domestic. Of course, you don’t know any of these people past face value and Wired YouTube interviews, but… it’s quite indulgent. This is sort of your dream, isn’t it? A full house of people enjoying their morning together. Peaceful bird song drifting in through open windows. The comfort of being around people you trust, not having to perform or put on a show. Well, you are very much putting on a show right now. It’s the thought that counts, or whatever.

“What would you like in it? We have sugar, milk, oat milk, and I like having a few syrups on hand,” Tim chatters excitedly, listing off the different ingredients he has on offer. Your poor ass stares at his rich one, and you are very rudely reminded these people live in different tax brackets than you.

Who the fuck had coffee syrups in their house? You could barely afford the little treats of caramel syrup you get every couple of months. The disappearance of the middle class was one you had witnessed personally.

You rattle off a very basic, bland order. Tim looks sort of disappointed in you which… well, you could be a coffee snob. You just didn’t have the time, usually. A flat white kept you going through the day, you didn’t need anything else. And so, Tim hands you a very bland coffee, and it is god sent. You can’t imagine how good it would be if you had mustered up your courage and asked for some caramel syrup.

Huh, you could be a coffee snob. You could be anything you wanted, really. And your first thought is being a coffee snob. Good God.

“Are you going to be staying?“ Bruce Wayne asks, immediately putting you on the spot. You weren’t ready for this, you were thinking about the coffees you could buy. Oh no, you really aren’t ready for this.

“At least for now, right?” Tim Drake says, just making it all the more stressful. You let out an awkward chuckle, fingers tight around your drink.

“Oh, I don’t want to be an inconvenience-”

Damian Wayne slams his mug down on the table, so hard a crack splinters up its side. He picks the cup up, strides across the kitchen, narrowed green eyes meeting yours for a second, and then he dumps the cup in a secret rubbish can. He murmurs an apology to the butler and then is out of the room.

Okay, well, you certainly feel like an inconvenience.

The butler clears his throat, and says, “Please forgive young master Damian. He’s been having a difficult time recently, I hope you can understand.”

And you think, ‘bitch, a difficult time?! He’s not the one who almost died last night!’ but what you say is, “Of course, I completely understand. I don’t want to bother him anymore so I’d really like to leave today.”

Mr. Wayne laces his fingers together, blue eyes giving you an assessing look.

“Stay for the day, and you can leave tonight. I want to make sure you’re truly alright,” he eventually says, and the mere presence of the man has you yielding to his commands. Didn’t really matter you were an adult who’d managed to survive this long on your own, you were listening to the big scary guy when he told you what to do.

Well, that’s that! You make your cereal and have a very quiet breakfast. You can’t tell if they’re being quiet because you’re here, or if mornings are usually like this. You hope they’re usually like this. Once you’ve finished your very nice cereal (one of the highest rated on Dick’s Instagram) you place the bowl by the sink. You want to wash it, but when you ask Alfred he gives you a look like you kicked his dog. Okay, you’ll just go then.

You’re about to sneak away, when you realise Tim’s staring at you… again…? But this time he seems quite focused on your clothing. His eyes follow the double lines on the side of your sweatpants, before settling on the Beatles logo on your shirt. He hums at it. Raises his brows.

“I’m sorry, I borrowed this because I didn’t have any other clothes. Is there something wrong with me wearing this?” you ask, and then experience a moment of horror, “This doesn’t belong to you, does it?”

“Hmm?” Tim chirps, “Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not mine.”

And then he turns away from you in a very clear dismissal. Nice, you really wanted to go hide for an hour or two. With one last awkward wave to Bruce Thomas Wayne, you scurry out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom you’d started thinking of as yours. You need to figure out how you're going to handle all this, and you're going to do it alone. Maybe with some dessert, if you can find it. You wouldn't say you think better with sugar running in your veins, but it definitely makes you more willing to deal with the bullshit that is your life. Hopefully it'd work in your new one, too.

-

Tim listens to your retreating footsteps, waiting till you’re far enough away to begin talking to Bruce. Humans were creatures of habit, so you’d probably be going back to the same room you slept in last night. He thinks Damian and him were the only ones who noticed whose shirt you were wearing, B’s off his game today. You’ve really managed to mess him up, to Tim’s delight.

“See? Dames was totally fine with her being here,” Tim says, cheerily enjoying his youngest sibling’s suffering. Bruce sighs, witheringly, lifting his hand to rub against the headache he always has. He’s probably noticed the excited, slightly fanatic gleam that’s entered into Tim’s eyes.

It was sort of obvious. This was all so exciting! You’d come back, sporting absolutely none of the defensive vitriol you usually have, and ate breakfast together. You took a coffee out of Tim’s hands. You’d willingly spoken to the devil, who everybody in the family knew hated you as much as you hated him, and even more than that-

You’d spoken to Bruce. Tim was sporting the idea that you’d gotten head trauma, at this point in time.

“Okay, fine. You get the mission, but-” Tim has to resist the urge to clap his hands together like a gleeful child “-but no extra cameras. I’m serious, Tim, if I find out you’ve invaded her privacy just after she’s starting to warm up to us again-”

“She wouldn’t know,” Tim complains, cutting the Bat off with a roll of his eyes.

“She’s smarter than you’d think,” Bruce shakes his head. Tim has to disagree, after the catastrophe that was last night. Unless of course, you were just playing with them all. So many options, it’s dizzying.

“We’ll shelve that argument for later. So, I want full control of the case, and in turn, I’ll do another two weeks as CEO,” Tim waves off Bruce’s complaints, going straight into haggling. The CEO position was tossed between the two of them like a hot potato, and it was one of Tim’s favourite bargaining tools.

“I am absolutely not agreeing to that, a month and nothing less.”

“This is why half your children don’t talk to you, but sure, whatever. Chase away your last, loyal loving son-”

“My God, Tim. Three fucking weeks, and if I hear another word I will hand this matter over to Grayson,” Bruce sighs, sounding a bit defeated.

Tim gives an offended gasp, placing his hand against his chest. And then he realises Bruce might actually be serious, and freaks out a bit.

“He’d be bad for it. Far too personally involved. You definitely don’t want to do that,” he says, leg bouncing under the table. Of course, the Bat notices, but he doesn’t mention it. He wouldn’t take this from Tim, they both knew he was getting too frazzled around the edges. He needed something to focus on, to ground him.

You were the perfect project. He loved his projects.

“I am aware. But the girls are out of town, and uncontactable. And I think if I gave Damian this assignment the two of them would kill each other.”

“No Jason option, sir?” Tim says because he’s a shit-stirrer and wants to get to work.

Tim succeeds in chasing Bruce away. He’s left to have his coffee in peace as the old man quickly flees the room at the mention of the son he's on the worst terms with. For the next few hours, Tim taps away on his computer, enjoying his time.

And when the front doors open, his ears prick, and a decidedly evil grin spreads on his face.

“I’m home!” Dick calls out, words travelling through the grand manor.

Tim gets up from his seat and wanders leisurely to the main hall, where Dick stands. He’s got a suitcase by his side, filled with all the things he’s brought up from the Blud. When he spots Tim, Dick’s face spreads in a familiar sunny smile. He quickly rushes to Tim’s side, swallowing the younger brother in a hug. Tim groans at the tight squeezing.

Despite his clinginess, it was good to see him. His tanned skin glowed healthily, and his curly black hair was messy over his brow. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled. He was happy to be home, despite everything that was going on. Dick always looked like he’d just gotten back from a run because he usually had. It was hard to get the guy to sit still for even a minute, much less stop parkouring over every imaginable surface.

“Tim! How’s it been? Ah, it’s so good to be home,” Dick starts, and again, Tim groans. When Dick starts yammering he never stops.

“I’m good, man. We can talk later, you should go put your things away before Alfred does,” Tim reminds Dick, and Dick pouts. It was a general rule that unless it was cooking, the family wasn’t supposed to rely on Alfred for everything.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be down in a minute! I have so much to tell you,” Dick relents, hand lifting to mess with his hair. Tim pushes him off, glaring at the man, and Dick laughs.

Tim gives Dick a tired wave as the gymnast bounds up the stairs to his bedroom. Tim watches him disappear down the hallways, and thinks, ‘I wish I could see this happen.’ He sighs, guess he’ll just have to hear Dick retell the story later. The distant sound of your shrieking voice has him chuckling. Yeah, he’ll hear about it later, he’s sure.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[milaeth]

୨୧┊ 𝐈. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. ( charles leclerc )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part one ∿ part two ∿ part three ( coming soon )

✧.* pairings ─ charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff & chaotic

✧.* summary ─ in which your best friend George gets fed up with watching you and Charles secretly yearn for each other while claiming to be just friends. so, when you lose a bet to George, he takes control of your social media accounts for 24 hours, using the opportunity to help you make a move on your crush.

✧.* face claim ─ suki waterhouse

✧.* warnings ─ none, this is just really chaotic lol

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ this is my first time writing a social media au so pls give me feedback! also, this is not proofread! btw feel free to leave requests <33

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: You know what, y/n?

y/n: no

princess george: I have the feeling that i’m gonna get a podium today!

y/n: what made you think that💀 not to crush your dreams princess, but i heavily doubt that

princess george: Wow, you’re so supportive. Why should I not be able to get a podium??

y/n: keyword: shitty car

princess george: Oh, yeah, I forgot about that… But i don’t care, i will manifest it (that’s what you always do, isn’t it?)

y/n: yeah sure..

princess george: You don’t believe me? Fine! Let’s make a bet then.

y/n: it’s way too early for this shit

princess george: Blahblahblah🙄

y/n: 💀 george i’m busy

princess george: Busy writing sad love songs about Charles or what??

y/n: …

princess george: Exactly. Now let’s do this!

y/n: why are you so eager to make this bet

princess george: Oh I just want to rub in your face that I was right afterwards

y/n: lovely.. but fine, start talking ig

princess george: Finally!

princess george: I predict that i’m gonna finish P3. Your prediction?

y/n: p11❤️

princess george: And now realistically…

y/n: p6

princess george: Thanks.

y/n: and what are the drawbacks?

princess george: I don’t know, maybe the loser has to hand over their main social media accounts to the winner for 24 hours. The loser isn’t allowed to use their main accounts in that time, only their private ones.

y/n: absolutely not

princess george: Aww you’re a scaredy cat?

y/n: no i just don’t trust you with my social media accounts💀

princess george: Okay fair enough

princess george: But c’mon, it’s gonna be fun! Only for 24h

y/n: fine but the winner can’t post anything too bad

princess george: Sure, sure. So, deal?

y/n: deal! and good luck (i hope you dnf)

princess george: Lovely as always

[ seen 12:03pm ]

georgerussell63

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 1,056,386 others

georgerussell63 P3!!!! We keep on moving🔥🔥

view all 649 comments…

user471 was a close call but congratulations!

user172 carlos deserved it more, you literally pushed him off

user93 he didn’t push carlos off but okay💀

user425 so happy for you!

user65 it should’ve been carlos

charles_leclerc congrats on p3 mate!!🔥

georgerussell63 Congratulations on P2! I nearly got you, watch your back next time😉

charles_leclerc let’s highlight the word “nearly”😉

user976 so happy to see you on the podium again🫶

yourusername still convinced you bewitched half of the grid to let you pass them

georgerussell63 Creative but no, I just had a great motivation😊😊

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: Well well well, look who lost our bet…

y/n: 😐

princess george: C’mon give me the password to all your main accounts so i can log in😁

y/n: what if i were suicidal.

princess george: Honestly sounds like a you problem.

y/n: fuck you.

princess george: Still waiting for the passwords😊

y/n: fine, but remember, only for 24 hours!

princess george: Yeah, yeah. Now give them to me.

y/n: … insta is “503_UedusEiotSrk03” & twitter is “eZiyjDbbvwKi_zu_14806”

princess george: Damn, those are some ugly passwords!

y/n: are you seriously judging my PASSWORDS rn💀💀

[ seen 4:20pm ]

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,385,052 others

scuderiaferrari That’s ice cold🧊🥶 #F1 #P2 #Charles16

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 6,175 comments…

user47 dayuumm🤭

user21 no one could ever get me into one of those things😭

yourusername That’s a sight I could get used to🥵🔥

landonorris don’t ever say or write that again.

urusername_alt🔒 @yourusername you really make me want to kms

yourusername @urusername_alt🔒 Aw, appreciate it❤️😉

landonorris y/n have you officially lost it?? why are you talking to yourself💀

user275 did we all see that or am i crazy💀

user164 yep we all saw that💀💀

yourusername

liked by zendaya, bellahadid, charles_leclerc and 18,364,187 others

yourusername "eyes that confess, while lips whisper 'just friends.'" my new single “just friends” is out now!!🤍 (yes, another single about my crush😘)

view all 369,270 comments…

user937 THIS IS SO GOOD AND HEARTBREAKING WTF

lewishamilton already on repeat🔥

user25 i cried my eyes out to this.

landonorris this is a BANGER

user12 how is this so cute yet so sad💀

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: HPW COULD YOU

y/n: I GO TO BED AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO??

princess george: i have no idea what you’re talking about.

y/n: OH PLEASE YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT YOU DID

princess george: Uhmmm nope.

y/n: YOU POSTED ONE OF MY DRAFTS

y/n: AND NOT JUST ANY DRAFT

y/n: NO, YOU POSTED THE ONE ABT MY SINGLE💀

y/n: IM GETTING EMAILS FROM MY PR TEAM BC I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THAT ON TUESDAY

princess george: Oh, yeah, my finger slipped🫢🫢

y/n: your finger must’ve slipped multiple times then bc the caption is somehow a different one💀 not to forget the twitter thing

princess george: Oops?

princess george: Besides, I only added one sentence.

y/n: are you fucking serious

princess george: It was an accident.

y/n: ACCIDENT MY ASS YOU EMBARRASSED ME IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!!! AND TOLD PEOPLE ITS ABOUT CHARLES WTF

princess george: To be fair that was predictable when we set the rules to this bet. And I didn’t directly say the single is about charles.

y/n: you did directly say that💀

y/n: istg i’m gonna beat you up the next time i see you

princess george: Should I be worried..?

y/n: definitely.

y/n: you give me so many seasons to kill you. this is literally the 19th one

princess george: Make it 20…

y/n: george. what do you mean.

princess george: I might’ve given you another season. On accident!!

princess george: https://www.instagram.com/p/Cu-IkZstViy/?img_index=1

y/n: oh no

f1wags

163,948 likes

f1wags Love is in the air, and our radar has picked up some juicy rumors! It seems like the friendship between the singer Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc is turning into something more than just a casual relationship. Get ready for the scoop as we take a closer look at the blossoming relationship between these two stars!

Y/N and Charles first crossed paths through their mutual friend George Russell, but it seems their connection has deepened over time. On late Sunday, Y/N dropped a bombshell by announcing her upcoming single to her social media followers, accompanied by a captivating caption. The last sentence read, "another single about my crush😘," which made fans curious and hopeful for more.

The plot thickened when Y/N responded to a tweet and saying that the song was indeed inspired by her "bae," none other than talented Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc. The revelation left followers shaking with excitement, and it's clear that the connection between the two goes deeper than mere friendship.

But that's not all! Observant watchers have noticed the undeniable chemistry between Y/N and Charles, catching glimpses of their interactions when they thought no one was watching. Ah, the power of love! Charles might have forgotten that the public has eyes everywhere, but we certainly haven't missed a beat.

The burning question on everyone's mind is: what's behind their friendship? Is it just a playful crush or something much more intense? Could Y/N L/N be a new f1 wag? Time will tell, but for now we can't help but root for this potential power couple.

So stay tuned, gossip lovers, because there's more to come from Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc. Whether it's a steamy romance or just a close friendship, we'll be here keeping our eyes peeled for any hint of what's going on behind the scenes. Love may be a game of mystery, but they've forgotten that we're experts at unraveling the truth. Keep your eyes open, folks!

view all 33,647 comments…

user79 y’all really don’t know how to mind your own business

user943 why are people making such a big deal out of this like they’re just friends and y/n was probably just drunk or smth when she said those things🙄🙄 ITS NOT THAT SERIOUS!!

user27 you guys really don’t have a life huh💀

user375 who tf is this blondie

user50 girl stfu that’s literally my wife

user697 AAAA i really hope this is real bc they’re so cute💖

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: 💀💀💀

princess george: I’m starting to feel bad now..

y/n: good, you should💀

y/n: i’m gonna apologize to charles now

princess george: Why, It’s not your fault.

y/n: you’re right, it’s yours. but you said all those things with my account so it looks like it’s my fault lol

princess george: I’m really sorry, I took it a little far!

y/n: a little is good💀 but dw it’s okay, i know you only meant it jokingly, i’ll tell everyone it was you and not me once the 24 hours are over

princess george: 👍 Good luck talking to Charles. And don’t forget to confess to him before I do it for you😉😉

[ seen 1:24pm ]

∿ people who might want to get tagged ─ @81astri @cs55version @lorarri ( my taglist if you want to get tagged in my works )

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

© milaeth | 2023

[pucksandpower]

Can I request an Insta au where Charles fans ship him with an upcoming model without knowing that they're actually dating privately...but paparazzi reveals it and everybody is shocked

Charles Leclerc x model!Reader - Social Media AU

yourusername

Liked by scuderiaferrari, imgmodels, and 935,218 others

yourusername no spectacle on earth like the monaco grand prix 🇲🇨

tagged scuderiaferrari

View all 2,176 comments

scuderiaferrari the ferrari garage is always open to you ❤️

feralforferrari maybe that twitter thread had a point

leclercalicious she’s from monaco and has modeled for ferrari in the past. it’s really not that deep. not every woman at a grand prix has to be connected to a driver

leclercupdates

Liked by tifositalking, literallyleclerc, and 54,260 others

leclercupdates Charles Leclerc posted this photo after attending a number of fashion shows in Paris over the past few days

View all 372 comments

trulytifosi fashion icon 🤩

paddockgirlie is the fashion icon in the room with us?

littleleclerc do you know who else is in Paris for fashion week right now? 👀

loyallylestappen give it a rest already

yourusername

Liked by hautecoutureweek, donatella_versace, and 1,016,439 others

yourusername paris haute couture fashion week was an absolute dream! thank you to all of the incredible designers who gave me the honor of walking in their art

View all 2,318 comments

donatella_versace no, thank you! you are a true professional with the brightest of futures, my dear. it was a pleasure working with you

eliesaabworld you were outstanding, darling! I speak for our entire team when i say that we cannot wait to work with you again

dailymail

Liked by gridgossip, runwaytea, and 72,483 others

dailymail F1 driver Charles Leclerc and model Y/N Y/L/N were spotted locking lips and looking very much enamored with each other in Saint-Tropez

View all 967 comments

littleleclerc NO WAY

littleleclerc I KNEW IT

littleleclerc MY LIFE IS COMPLETE

kartingkween how about a little respect? some privacy? acting like you have at least a basic sense of moral decency?

catwalkdivas f**k the daily mail. all my homies hate the daily mail

leclercmeup when the boyfriend you’ve been dating without him knowing for years is off the market 💔

yourusername’s story

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 1,356,984 others

charles_leclerc the sweetest taste of victory

View all 3,261 comments

yourusername you know … you taste pretty sweet too

yourusername and sweaty

yourusername mostly sweaty

charles_leclerc are you complaining?

yourusername definitely not

pierregasly are you sure that’s not just the taste of y/n’s lipstick?

charles_leclerc they are one and the same

littleleclerc i can finally die happy 🫠

arthur_leclerc i still don’t know why y/n agreed to date you

charles_leclerc because someone in this family actually has game

arthur_leclerc who? have i met them?

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, f1wagupdates, and 1,087,402 others

yourusername proud beyond measure

View all 3,175 comments

charles_leclerc i have to give some of the credit to my good luck charm cheering me on all weekend

yourusername nothing wrong with a little extra motivation 😉

carlossainz55 i don’t even want to know what you promised him

charles_leclerc that’s a first

f1wagupdates charles looked extra happy this weekend and now we know why 🥹

fearlessferrari more like now we know who

[sprinkler-ashes]

gold rush // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

description: in which aaron hotchner hates social media – unless it’s yours. inspired by gold rush by taylor swift.

words: 2.2k

warnings: hotch is down bad, curse words, a bit of pining and jealousy

a/n: i love the idea of the bau being active on social media + hotch having no idea what any online terms mean lmao anyways i just really like this little fic. happy reading!!

i don’t like slow motion, double vision in rose blush

i don't like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush

everybody wants you

but i don’t like a gold rush

Aaron Hotchner is not a fan of social media.

Maybe it’s because of his job. He knows that posting too much information online could sometimes lead to bad situations because there are always people lurking – it’s impossible to know who, exactly, is watching online. Or maybe it’s because he simply didn’t grow up with it. It didn’t really matter – he just knows he does not like using it.

Penelope had shown him quite a bit of Twitter after several BAU cases started trending while the cases were actively going on, even somehow agreeing to let her set him up an account. Aaron didn’t really want an account, but it was almost impossible to say no to Penelope Garcia who Aaron genuinely liked a lot.

Facebook was another one that he had. He didn’t even have a profile picture and only harbored a small amount of friends – entirely family. The site was strictly used to keep up with Jessica since she was an avid Facebook user. If he couldn’t get a hold of her through her phone, he would send her a message on Facebook’s messaging platform, Messenger. She typically responded that way.

The last social media account Aaron had was a new one. Or, well, new-ish. It had just been created a little over a month ago. He didn’t want the account, but Penelope wasn’t the one who asked him to get an account that time.

It was you. And saying no to you was even harder than saying no to Penelope.

A group photo was taken at Rossi’s last month during a get-together after finishing a case. Penelope went straight to Instagram to post it, tagging everyone except Aaron who wasn’t shy to say he didn’t have an account. He was the only one – even Rossi had made an account.

“You’re not on Instagram?” You’d asked Aaron only moments after that.

He shook his head. “I don’t really use social media.”

You frowned like you were in deep thought before turning to him again with a smile. “We should change that.”

All it took was a good minute, maybe even less than that, and one of your signature smiles to convince him to let you help him create an Instagram profile.

He accumulated a small amount of followers since then, which he had to approve, of course, as Aaron made sure his account was set to private – mainly family, some friends, and the team. However, that was as far as it went. He was still figuring out the app, but completely forgot about his new account due to his busy life.

Except for now.

It’s a slow Friday at work – mainly just a day spent catching up on paperwork – and Aaron never really complains on days like this. Yes, it’s usually boring, but having a day without a case means he actually gets to see his son at the end of the day, so it’s a win for him.

But a slow day creates boredom, especially when he’s actually ahead on paperwork. Aaron can’t recall the last time he was this bored at work – probably because he usually has something to do – but when his eyes ghost over the time on his expensive watch, he has to resist letting out a sigh of agitation because, somehow, there are still four more hours left in the workday.

Aaron puts the pen he’s holding down and moves the file he’s in the process of reviewing. He grabs his phone from one of the drawers in his desk and turns it on. The lock screen, which is his favorite photo of Jack, lights up before he enters his passcode.

He does errand-like things at first, including responding to a couple of texts, checking his personal email, and even spending a minute, or five, on Twitter, not that he would ever admit that to Penelope.

Eyeing the colorful app with a white outline of a camera, he hesitantly opens Instagram, still not really used to it considering it’s been over a month since the last time he was on it. He waits a second for it to load up until a photo appears on his feed from JJ, who posted a picture of Henry and Will before she left for work.

jj_jareau: My two favorite guys <3

Aaron knows that the symbol on the end of her caption is supposed to represent a heart because you often send the same symbol in the BAU group chat. He’s not sure why you never use actual emoticons – he’s never asked you – but he associates the symbol with you.

Not that he’s associating hearts with you specifically. Or overanalyzing all your texts in the group chat. Of course not, it’s just because you use it often. That’s all.

When Aaron tries to scroll, he accidentally presses on your username that was showing up in the preview of the comments, sending him straight to your own Instagram page.

He’s about to click the back arrow above your profile picture that he’s assuming will take him back to his feed, but Aaron can’t stop himself from glancing over your profile. Your page is filled with photos from moments in your life that go back years.

Looking up from his phone, he can see you from his chair as the blinds in his office are currently open. You’re chatting with Spencer who’s sitting across from you, a smile on your face as you continuously glance from him and back over to your computer screen where you’re typing, making sure Spencer knows you’re still listening to whatever bizarre fact he’s probably ranting about.

Aaron looks back down to his phone. He’s never been on your page, nor have your posts ever shown up on his feed during the rare times he’s actively gone on the app. It almost feels too personal – like he’s not supposed to see the side of you he doesn’t work with.

He carefully presses on the last post you made. It’s a post from only one day ago, but you’re not in any of the seven photos you’ve posted, which makes him frown with a tinge of disappointment.

Your caption reads, September photo dump, with a couple emoticons.

Wondering what the hell a photo dump is, Aaron looks through the set of pictures again. Everything is random. They range from a sunset to a picture of a meal you must’ve eaten at some point during the month of September, which just passed, and even one of Emily’s cat.

He scrolls down to the next post from three days ago. This time, you’ve only posted one picture and luckily for him, you’re actually in it.

You’re sitting at a dinner table, head resting gently on your hand with a sweet smile while your other hand is gently holding a glass of what – Aaron brings the phone closer to his face without knowing he can actually just zoom in – appears to be champagne.

It only takes him a few seconds after admiring how you look in the photo to wonder about who’s on the other side of it.

Aaron doesn’t know who took the photo and is getting to see you smile like that, but he does know that he wishes it was him because you’re just so damn pretty.

The man is pretty sure he would quite literally melt down to the ground if you looked at him like that.

He’s attempting to push these thoughts to the back of his head as he prepares to scroll to the next post. Aaron is well aware of the fact he shouldn’t be thinking about you in any way that isn’t strictly platonic. He is your boss and even aside from that, the two of you are not only co-workers, but friends.

Friends, he reminds himself. That’s all.

But as he scrolls to the next post, every thought of friendship leaves his body.

It’s a photo taken with the flash on from exactly a week ago, last Friday night, of you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope in what appears to be a club that Aaron can’t say recognizes. You’re standing on the end, your arm snaked around Emily’s waist with your body turned towards the camera while mid-laugh.

The black dress you’re wearing hugs every inch of your body perfectly – you’re showing more skin in the photo than Aaron has ever seen out of you. He’s seen you dressed up before – even seen you in person at clubs himself – but nothing like this before. Ever.

Much needed girls’ night out, your caption says.

Aaron’s not even sure he’s still breathing when he swipes to the second, and last, picture in the post.

This time, it’s only you. You’re still in the same dress, looking at the camera with a sultry smile. You’re not in the club this time. Aaron can’t tell where you are, but that doesn’t really matter because you’re looking straight at the camera with one of the most attractive looks he’s ever seen – it almost feels like you’re looking directly at him.

prentiss_emily: Baddest bitch in the bureau

yourusername: @ emily_prentiss Only behind you ofc

Though he knows she means it in an endearing way, Aaron doesn’t want to call you a bitch, but Emily’s comment on your post technically isn’t a lie. Unfortunately, he also can't seem to figure out what "ofc" means.

A part of him feels guilty. He knows he can’t have you, yet he’s going through your Instagram right now imagining a thousand what-if scenarios, a tinge of jealousy running through his veins at the idea of you ever looking at anyone the way you’re looking at the camera in your photos.

Aaron spends so much time trying to convince himself he doesn’t feel the way he does for you because there are so many reasons why he shouldn’t have the feelings he does. He can’t think of a scenario where you can be his nor can he think of a world in which you feel the same.

So, after he looks at this photo for another couple of seconds, he’s finally going to close out the app and forget about the way you look in that dress.

He can’t get the chance to do that because the door to his office is opening abruptly, startling him to the point where he drops his phone onto his desk.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, hands fumbling to lock his phone so your Instagram will go away.

There you are, mouth open to say something until you notice him fumbling with his phone.

A sheepish look appears on your face. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.”

“It’s fine,” he says, hoping his voice is even and doesn’t scream: Hello, I just looked through your Instagram. “What do you need?” He lays his phone down – it’s finally locked – and looks up at you, trying to appear like he was actually doing something.

“Oh, I don’t need anything. Reid and I are going to try that new place that just opened up down the street for lunch. I was wondering if you wanted me to grab you something.”

“Do you have a menu?” He asks.

“Yeah, give me a second. I’ll text it to you,” you tell him.

You’re pulling your phone out of the pocket of your pants and if Aaron had been paying attention and not pretending like he was working, he would’ve seen the way you glanced up at him, back to your phone, then back to him, a giddy smile on your face.

You do as you told him you would and send him the menu. “Take your time looking over it. Just text me what you want within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks. I’ll look over it in a minute.”

Aaron really does go back to work this time, his hands moving to pick up the file he moved earlier. He hears the door open and assumes you’re on your way out of the door, but you don’t leave yet.

“Oh! Before I go,” you say, your body out the door and your hand lingering on the outside knob of his office door. He looks up at you, pen in hand. “Thanks for the like on Instagram.”

Aaron thinks his heart has stopped upon hearing those words. Before he can even say anything, you shut the door, and you’re making your way back to where Spencer is still sitting.

He swallows hard, closes the file, and sets it away once again. His fingers frantically type in his passcode, and Instagram immediately pops up, still open from when he tried to turn his phone off.

To Aaron’s horror, he sees the Instagram heart that’s used to like photos filled with red and seemingly glaring at him. It was too late to unlike it now. You’d obviously already gotten the notification.

Meanwhile, as Aaron is mentally panicking, you’re whipping out your phone again to send another text. This time to Emily who is currently in a meeting.

I will never doubt you again – Operation post-a-thirst-trap worked!

[violetsaffron5]

NSFW Gojo Week (1)

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader

A night off work leads you and your work crush to finally meet up for a steamy rendezvous

cw: exhibitionism, light degradation, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, facial

words: 1.7k

Masterlist • Day 2

Check out the links below for more info!

Tumblr - Link to all 2023 Gojo NSFW Week works!

Carrd - For guidelines/rules, AO3 Collection, etc.

Twitter - Give us a follow!

CuriousCat - For any questions you may have!

As a sorcerer, you don’t get many nights off, nights to do whatever you please without a care in the world.

Tonight is one of those nights. The lights of the small club you’re in flash green, red, purple, and blue all around you. Shoko wanted to use the opportunity to go out, have some fun, and relieve some stress, so she invited you, Utahime, and Satoru, and even got Nanami to come along.

It’s been busy for everyone the last several months. Fighting curses, and spending time healing; Shoko having a multitude of sorcerers to care for, along with surgeries.

The bass of the music vibrates from the soles of your feet through every hair follicle at the top of your head, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body as red, green, purple, and blue lights flash over your face, through the sea of people dancing.

You’re dancing with Satoru; he has one of his large hands splayed on your exposed stomach, just under your crop top while his other rests at your hip while you press your ass into him.

You might have a little, teeny, tiny work crush on him, and you’re pretty sure he has one on you too. He’s never been one to hide how he feels, but he’s also flirty with everyone, including Nanami, so it’s hard to really know.

Either that or he just really wants to fuck you.

Your hand is wrapped around his neck, nails scratching at his undercut as you move your hips together. And judging by the way Satoru’s dancing with you, the rumors must be true.

Of course, you’ve heard them, everyone has.

Gojo fucks so good, it’s actually insane.

I’ve never cum so many times in my life, and that tongue, oh my god.

He has the biggest dick I have ever seen… I should call him again, actually.

The two of you have had some… tense moments, to say the least. A few flirty grins here in there that have been met with your lips ghosting one another on several occasions.

But each time it has been met with an interruption. Someone walking into the room looking for one of you, or a phone call about an urgent mission. Each time it happens, it leaves you craving more, wondering when your lips will finally meet, and if it will it be as incredible as you’ve heard.

Satoru leans down, you can feel his warm breath tickling your neck and the shell of your ear. It sends a chill right down your spine, straight to your core. Tilting your head to the side, you’re met with his azure half-lidded gaze.

Your eyes flicker between his and his lips several times, and just as your lips ghost one another you can hear your name being called.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to steady yourself before turning to see Shoko calling you over to take a few shots with her.

Satoru rolls his eyes as you groan in annoyance at once again being separated at the last moment. He removes his hands from your hips and stomach, stuffing them into his pocket, diligently following you back to the private booth you have for the night.

Shoko already has the shots ready, handing one to everyone who clinks their little glasses together before downing them. Satoru winces and you quickly grab another drink to use as a chaser, trying to rid the taste of alcohol on your tongue.

You take a seat next to Satoru who pulls you in closer to him by wrapping his arm around your shoulder, letting his thumb gently rub against your skin with light, featherlike touches that send a jolt straight to your core.

As everyone engrosses in conversation, you turn your head towards Satoru when he speaks, letting your nose run along the length of his jaw. Pressing your forehead into his cheek, you turn to see Shoko eyeing you with a raised eyebrow as your cheeks heat and you clear your throat.

“I’m, uh, gonna head to the bathroom really quick.”

The wetness between your thighs is absolutely unreal and becoming increasingly uncomfortable. You can feel Satoru’s gaze on you as you walk away and you turn back, biting your lip only to see his eyes trailing down to your ass slowly before coming back up, meeting you with a sultry grin.

Once inside the bathroom, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself of something that might not even happen tonight, or ever, if the universe has anything to say about it.

Standing at the mirror, you run your hands through your hair quickly just as the door opens. You expect to see Shoko walking through the door, but instead, you’re met with a tall head of ivory hair and crystalline eyes surrounded by soft snowy lashes.

“Fancy meeting you here,” You say playfully as he walks up behind you, tilting his head to stare at your ass as you lean forward just enough for your asscheeks to peek out from under your skirt, pretending to fix your lipstick in the mirror.

Satoru chuckles but doesn’t say anything as his hands find their way back to your hips, pulling you into him. Your breath hitches when you feel his hardened length under his slacks, encouraging you to grind into him slowly.

“What if someone walks in?”

“Let them.” He whispers in your ear, warm breath sending a chill down your spine as he flips the back of your skirt over your hips, kneading the plush skin of your ass with his large hands before sliding his fingers over your soaked panties and moving them to the side.

He groans when he runs his fingers through your already soaking folds, avoiding your clit, he doesn’t press in, he just teases until you’re whimpering, rutting your ass back into him further, begging for more.

“Satoru, please,” You whine, “If you don’t fuck me right now, I am going to die.”

He chuckles, continuing his teasing, “Guess you’ll just have to die, baby.”

You glare at him through the mirror where he watches as your furrowed brows slowly turn upwards, lips parting slightly when he lets his thumbs press gently to your clit.

“Can’t even wait for me to get you home?” You mewl as he continues his ministrations, “So fucking desperate for me.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he dips two fingers in and you’re already feeling more full and more pleasure than you’ve ever felt before. Leaning back, you rest your head against his shoulder, rocking your hips to the best of your ability, a coil forming in the lowest parts of your belly.

And then he just stops and pulls his fingers out to your dismay.

You glare at him like he’s just shot you, before he tangles his hand in your hair, tilting your head to a better angle, allowing him to kiss and nip down the sides of your neck - he could tell you hours doing your hair, and makeup to look nice tonight.

He’ll gladly ruin both.

Satoru pushes you back over the sink, quickly undoing his belt, letting his slacks fall past his knees with a clatter. When he releases his cock from the confines of his briefs, he taps the leaking tip on your ass a few times before positioning himself at your entrance.

You gasp, pressing your hands to the sink, pushing your ass further towards him. He watches you through the mirror giving a salacious smile and a wink before pushing in all the way to the hilt.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, adjusting to the sheer size of him. With a hand pressed to your stomach, you feel the way his cock bulges as he thrusts into you a few times.

“Look at me,” He commands. Your eyes flutter open, watching him through the mirror as he places one hand on the wall in front of him for support, and you hold onto the sink for dear life, knuckles aching at how hard you’re gripping the ceramic.

He keeps a hand on your hip to help keep you steady, nails digging into the skin as he moves his hand from the wall, tangling it into your hair once again, holding your head back, forcing you to watch as he relentlessly snaps his hips into you.

“You’re making such a mess, baby,” Satoru purrs, watching his slick-coated cock disappear into you with each thrust, watching as your arousal drips down your thigh and onto the tile below, “So fuckin’ tight.”

Leaning forward, he licks and bites down your neck leaving several scraps and marks - proof of your little bathroom rendezvous.

His eyes lock with yours when he feels your walls clamping around his cock like a noose.

“Yes, right there,” You moan as the coil in your lower stomach returns, threatening to snap at any moment.

He groans, unsure of how much longer he’s going to be able to last, “Wanna see you cum, baby. Give it to me. Bet you make the prettiest faces cumming on my cock.”

You’re chanting his name, all Satoru, and yes as the heat in your core erupts and you’re convulsing and spasming around his cock, squeezing him like you want to keep him there forever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, pulling out and dragging you down to your knees before you’ve realized what’s happening.

He strokes his cock several times and your eyes widen at the sight. Flushed tip so red and angry, but the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

You open your mouth, looking so pretty as you place your tongue on the tip of his cock, just as cums all over your tongue and lips, rubbing the tip of his sensitive cock over your tongue, pushing it further into your mouth.

“Swallow.” And you do, licking your lips to make sure you’ve gotten every last drop. Satoru adjusts himself back into his briefs, bending down and placing his lips on yours in a searing, fiery kiss that lets you know he’s nowhere close to being finished with you.

He can taste himself on your tongue but neither of you care.

“I’m gonna text Shoko, tell her I left.”

Satoru clears his throat as he helps you stand, placing an arm around your waist to hold you close, “Call Ijichi too. Tell him you’re taking an extended weekend vacation.”

[cosmicpearlz]

celebrity crush

summary: you make your debut on the tonight show with jimmy fallon to promote a movie and end up spilling the beans about your celeb crush.

pairing: percy hynes white x actress!reader

…………………………………………………………………………….

when you were finally asked to be on the tonight show, there was no way you were passing that up. since you had just finished filming the barbie movie, your stylist decided to put you in a dress from valentino’s hot pink collection. the dress was long sleeved, laid off the shoulders and had lots of rhinestones all around. paired with the matching hot pink stockings and platform heels. you felt like this was the best outfit your stylist ever put together but you tend to say that about every outfit.

“now welcoming the lovely and talented y/n!” as you walked from behind the curtains, you waved to the audience with a bright smile. you quickly give jimmy a hug and sit down on the chair.

“hello hello hello!”

“y/n, so how have you been? you recently finished filming the barbie movie, right?” the screams that the audience did made you chuckle while nodding your head.

“i’ve been good jimmy just hanging out at home with my cat. but yes, i did finish filming the barbie movie and i’m so excited for you guys to see it!”

“what was it like? where you nervous at all?”

“it was so amazing and the cast is genuinely so sweet. i definitely was a little nervous being that i’m one of the youngest out of the adults but everyone just made me feel so comfortable.”

“i love that! now, we don’t know much about you but is there anything you care to share with us tonight?” you take a sip of your water glass before you started talking again. you needed a moment to think about what to say quickly.

“i tend to keep most of my life private because i’m just naturally a shy little bean about somethings,” you, jimmy and the audience share a laugh.

“but in all seriousness i’m just like you guys,” you pointed to the audience. “i have celebrity crushes and over fantasize about things that make me happy. i even named my black cat loki because i really enjoy marvel movies and stuff like that.” you could hear the audience clapping and it made you smile to yourself.

“so the celebrity crushes, who is it?” jimmy leaned on his arms that rested on the desk with his head in his hands. immediately you hide your face into the palm of your hands.

“ah jimmy i can’t say that. there’s too many to count!”

“okay, just tell us one of them. who have you been recently crushing on?” you uncover your face and let out a loud playful sigh.

“you guys know the show wednesday, right?” the audience screams once again and you nodded your head.

“and you know xavier thorpe in the show?” your smile was getting bigger by the second because of the way the audience just somehow screamed even louder.

“yeah, so i have a crush on percy hynes white. there i said it!” jimmy leaned back in his chair with laughter.

“oh my goodness, you have a crush on percy?”

“yes! i mean who wouldn’t? have you literally seen those gorgeous green eyes or his smile with his dimples,” you dramatically started fanning yourself to get the point across that you really found him attractive.

“that is not who i expected you to say!”

“what can i say? i’m just down bad for that man. i’m so down bad that after watching wednesday, i went and watched some of his other projects.”

“so you’re that down bad?”

“yes jimmy, that down bad. but you guys can’t tell him! i don’t want him to think that i’m weird!” you bit your trying to hide how nervous you were now. jimmy laughs and shakes his head.

“right after this break, we’ll be back with y/n! we have a fun game in store for you guys.” you waved at the camera with a smile before it cut off for break.

-

it was about two weeks later and you didn’t think of the interview anymore. if you were being honest, you were too engrossed into your book that you started and didn’t even notice how social media was currently blowing up.

“y/n did you look at twitter recently?” sadie sink, your best friend said sitting down next to you on the couch. she had came to visit you since she was also on a work break.

“no why?”

“girl, you caught percy’s attention!” you snapped your head towards her looking away from the tv.

“WHAT?”

“yeah, he went on the tonight show and apparently talked about you!”

“there’s no fucking way. when did this happen?”

“last night.” you quickly pulled up the interview on tv and grabbed sadie’s hand in need of comfort.

the interview

“so percy, we recently had y/n on here two weeks ago. did you happen to see what she said?”

“no, i didn’t get a chance to but i know i kept getting dm’s about it.”

“since you haven’t seen it, we’re gonna pull it up on the monitor and watch it together!”

“let’s do this.”

on que the monitor starts playing the previous interview of you rambling about how much you liked percy. when the video ended, jimmy turned his head to a slightly blushing percy.

“so what do you think about that?”

“first of all i’m really honored to her celebrity crush because have you seen her? she’s literally stunning and two, i wouldn’t mind getting to know her.” the audience freaked out even more than they did for your interview with jimmy.

“did we just match make on the tonight show?”

“maybe. just maybe,” percy smiles a little more making his dimple pop right out.

end of interview

still holding sadie’s hand, you looked at her with your jaw dropped. you couldn’t believe that percy had said that.

“okay wow. check your insta dm’s to see if he messaged you y/n!” you let her hand go and grabbed your phone opening instagram. percy had followed you back and did in fact dm you.

“OH MY GOD SADIE SADIE. HE DM’D ME!”

“well what does it say?” she was excited for you being the main one to hear about the crush you had on him the most.

from percy hynes white (@percy)

hey, i’m in nyc for a couple of more days if you’re down to hangout. just let me know!

“sads what do i say? he sent it a couple of hours ago.”

“don’t be stupid, plan something!”

to percy hynes white (@percy)

i’d love that! how about we go to central park and figure it out from there?

you hit the send button and internally screamed in your head. within minutes, your phone buzzed on your legs. you and sadie share a look before you picked it up.

from percy hynes white (@percy)

sounds great. it’s a date then :) though, can i have your number?

you decided to heart the message and dm your number to him. sitting your phone down once more, you shook sadie’s shoulders in excitement.

“sadie he said it was a date!” she smiles while jumping up and down with you.

“my best friend got a date! my best friend got a dateee!”

now you just had to figure out what to wear.

-

the day for the date finally came and you were buzzing with excitement. the night before, you did a fashion show for sadie and picked out an outfit. settling on a pair of light washed ripped mom jeans, a white and black oversized sweater and your black nike air max 95’s.

“okay babes, i’ll be here with loki. call me if you need anything,” sadie hugs you and pushed you towards the door.

“i love you sads!” you yell out to her quickly before making sure you had everything in your tote bag and running out the door.

you make your journey on the subway to central park. it wasn’t long but that didn’t stop you from reading your book on the train with some music playing in your ears. once the train stopped at your stop, you got off and went to text percy.

to percy <3

hey, are you here yet?

from percy <3

yeah, i just got off the train. where are you?

to percy <3

lol same but i’m right at the park entrance!

you looked up from your phone to see the long brown haired boy looking left and right across the street. you quickly began raising your arm in a waving before he found you. the smile that graced his face was truly a sight to see. he jogs over to you and immediately pulls you into a hug.

“hi stranger,” you looked up at him returning the smile he had.

“hi stranger. let’s go take a walk and get some food, yeah?”

“i’m okay with that.” you guys walk into the park and followed the long trail.

“so i hear i’m your celebrity crush,” you laughed while looking down at your shoes.

“yeah, is it weird for you?”

“weird? why would it weird to have a pretty girl say that i’m her celebrity crush?” percy nudged your arm with his. “if anything, i’d say the feeling is mutual now.”

“percy, you can’t be serious.”

“oh i’m absolutely serious. you’re very pretty and talented as hell.” you looked down with a smile on your face again.

“you’re pretty too,” you gaze up at him to see his face with a blush adoring his cheeks.

the two of you continued the walk just talking about any and everything. your arms kept brushing besides each other before you made the move to interlock your hands together. percy didn’t seem to mind it briefly squeezing your hand.

“what we thinking for food percy?”

“burgers and fries?”

“you had me at a burger,” peering up at him with a grin, leading him to subway station entrance for the b train.

“i know this really good burger place but it’s around rockefeller center if that’s okay.”

“i’m down for it. i honestly dread for when the night has to end,” he rubs his thumb over your hand making you look down again. you’ve never felt this connected to someone in such a short amount of time. little did you know percy felt the same way, he was drawn to you and he liked this newfound feeling.

you tugged his hand and walked down the subway entrance stairs. once you both swiped your metro cards, you leaned on his shoulder with your arms around one of his waiting for the train to come. unbeknownst to the both of you, a couple of fans had silently spotted you guys and decided to start taking secret pictures.

-

the dinner was nice and you had enjoyed his presence. percy even paid for both you and him but you told him the next time that you were paying. he was the perfect gentleman and you knew just from one date that you were definitely going to fall harder than before.

“i had a great time with you percy.” you said while holding hands just like earlier in the day.

“i had a great time with you too. i’m not sure i want to the night to end.” he looks into your eyes with that beautiful dimpled smile. just as you were about to respond, you felt water drops on your head.

“did you feel that?”

“feel what?”

the rain started coming down heavier making you squeal. percy is quick to firmly tighten the hand that was holding yours to run with you to find shade from the rain. once finding shade under a building entrance, you guys were soaked with water head to toe. laughter and heavy breathing was all that was heard from the two of you.

“that’s so cliché!”

“what it raining in the middle of our date?”

“yes percy. it felt like one of those romance movies,” you were looking around watching the rain pour down. percy had turned his attention to you just staring at you thinking about how pretty you looked.

“wanna make it even more cliché?”

“huh?” you turned back to him finding his face dangerously close to yours. when did he even move closer? not that you were complaining.

“can i kiss you y/n?”

“yes.”

he places both of his hands on your cheeks tilting your head upwards pulling you into a kiss. it started off slow then gradually got more intense. your fingers tangled into his wet hair pulling ever so slightly to push him more to you. the kiss was mainly teeth and tongue as you guys desperately consume each other. in that very moment nobody else mattered. just two souls that were drawn towards one another with a kiss that seemed to confirm every feeling even if it was only one day.

“woah, i don’t even know what to say.” your whisper fell upon his lips as his nose nudged yours.

“don’t say anything. just kiss me again.”

[insertdisc5]

Devlog #16: Answers and Questions

Hello everyone! Welcome to this month’s devlog!

If you just stumbled upon this, I am Adrienne, also known as insertdisc5! I’m the developer, writer, artist, main programmer, etc of the game. The game being In Stars and Time, a timeloop RPG, which is also the next and final game in the START AGAIN series, following START AGAIN: a prologue (available here!).  You can find out more about In Stars and Time here!!! 

LET’S GET TO IT. This month is Q&A: Cohost edition!

“A Q&A again?” Heheh well I don’t have anything to talk about this month ✨ We’re working hard on finalizing the localization! And on porting to consoles! And on secret stuff! You know, the usual!!! Get excited!!! So, Q&A again 💖 And see, I asked questions for Q&As on Twitter. On Tumblr. On Discord. But some new social media platforms have entered the fray. SO.

Welcome to Q&A: Cohost edition. (Follow me on cohost and/or read this post I wrote about why I think cohost is neat teehee) (and follow me on bluesky if you want. I like it way less though. Sorry bluesky)

@ItsMeLilyV asks:

One of the bits of advice that gets tossed around by indie devs is to avoid making RPGs, especially for your first few games, because they tend to be large in scope, difficult to prototype, and easy to underestimate.

Was this ever a fear for you in making START AGAIN, or In Stars and Time? Did you take any special precaution to keep these games within a scope you could handle, and did you learn tricks from START AGAIN that carried over to ISAT when in came to keeping things manageable? Thank you!! ✨

I had no idea that was a piece of advice given, but yep, that makes a lot of sense! Since I didn’t know, I went in blissfully aware, teehee.

I will say that I am familiar with working on big projects from working on comics, and with seeing big webcomic artists always mention to never start with your magnum opus… And I could tell ISAT had the potential to be way bigger than I imagined, which is why I decided to start with creating the prologue to get used to RPGMaker as well as making games. Kind of a pilot of sorts!

Again, thanks to comics, I know to keep my scope pretty small, because even if you keep it small it WILL balloon into something way bigger than you thought. Just for the prologue, I imagined it’d be a 20mn game, and it’s easily a 2-3h one! Keep your scope small!!!

As for tricks, when I catch myself thinking “wow what if I added this cool thing”, I try to always keep in mind those two things: 1. How long will it take to implement (including bug testing), and 2. Does it add something important to the game. I know we always want to add a fishing game, or a fun minigame, but do you Need It. Does it add something substantial to the story, to the Themes. Or are you just adding it because you like fishing games. Which is a valid reason, but also, maybe just make a fishing game instead. You are not the Yakuza series!!!! You are a small indie gamedev!!!! Think about you in 4 months who has to fix all the fishing game bugs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@stem asks:

how is it to have a piece of art that's basically done (as far as i understand) that you can't share yet? like how do you personally bide the time until it's finally ready to release, or is it not really a challenge to wait? :0c

It’s so weird!!! The game has been done for so long!!! I’m very glad I asked some friends to playtest the game, so I could at least get some feedback before the game is out… In some ways it feels like the game will be done twice: once back when I finished making the game, and once when the game actually comes out. It’s just a very strange experience. Sometimes people tell me they’re excited to find out more about this story beat, or about this character, and a part of me is like… Wait, haven't you played the game? Oh, yeah, it’s not actually out. Guess you’ll find out later.

EDIT: My god. I just checked on my private devlog for when I completed the Alpha of ISAT. It was in August of last year (I lay down on the floor and look at the ceiling) (I still had to finish all the illustrations so really the game was Done Donezo in October but still…)

anon asked:

What role did Armor Games play in creating the final product?

SO MANY THINGS. Here are some of them: support when it comes to porting/marketing/social media/localization, feedback on the game and how to make it better, community guidance, testing support, QA/internal testing… The game couldn’t be the way it is without them.

For more small details, I have a weekly meeting with my producer, Dora! We talk about the game and how everything is going. A couple months back, I also was checking in with the internal QA team fairly often to fix any remaining bugs. They also helped me find ISAT’s additional programmer, Isabella, and she is a godsend because coding is hard. They also take care of communicating with press, finding more opportunities to showcase the game in conventions, talking with the localization/porting teams… I am probably forgetting a thousand little things they did to help out!!! THEY’RE SO GOOD OK

Anon asked:

So obviously the skills/spells/what have you are based off of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Did you design each "type" to be like a certain style? Rock being heavy damage and defense buffs, scissors being speed and quick attacks, like that?

Absolutely! I just went with the obvious. Rock is physical damage, defense focused, Scissors is swords, attack focused, and Paper is magic, mind focused. It was fun to develop a spell system around those! I’m excited for people to find out more about Craft…

@nickshutter asks:

I really loved START AGAIN (streamed it for a small handful of friends) and was super happy to hear about a follow-up! The cast is so much fun and their personalities are really well-balanced—did any of the characters change pretty drastically from their initial conception during development of the game?

I’m so glad you streamed it with friends… I hope you had a good fun time…

And for sure! Isabeau and Mirabelle were pretty set from the get go (himbo and shy wallflower), but Odile started as more of a gentle teacher type, even if I very quickly went the snarky old lady route. Siffrin and Bonnie were harder to pin down– I wasn’t sure how to portray Siffrin’s despair in the prologue, and started showing them more overtly depressed, but I thought it’d be Very Yummy to have them show a happy facade to their friends. And then, for ISAT, I had to figure out what a non-depressed Siffrin would be like, for the first couple acts of the game before the despair sets in. As for Bonnie, I had a lot of trouble figuring out what they’d be like, what kind of kid they were, what their relationship with everyone else would be like, and then I thought about what their past would be like and then their characterization was set in stone. Sometimes you need to figure out One Thing to unlock a character’s brain. I’m very excited for everyone to find out more about each character in ISAT!

@SuperBiasedGary asks:

What games (or other media) lit a fire under you to create your own?

It could be stuff you liked so much it inspired, something you found frustrating because you felt an itch to do it differently, or something that made you realise humans make things and you could be one of them.

I found a lot of indie games inspiring, but I think Umineko might’ve been the one that made me go… Oh, anyone can just make a massive video game narrative. And you can make it very simple, with kinda goofy sprites, and still manage to make an incredibly touching story!

As for frustrating games that lit a fire under me, I think I’d say in general, I found issue with the classic trope of the “main character helps people and doesn’t get anything back”. What often happens in some games is that you help NPCs with their problems, sometimes helping them with very intense, complicated problems! For a very long time! And, in exchange, you get… A cool item? A nice new skill? And that’s it?

I know this might be complicated to implement on a narrative perspective, but I remember playing Persona 5, and your character just went through a very harrowing experience (like, oh, being INTERROGATED AND TORTURED BY THE POLICE) and you help your friends during social links, and they go “thanks for your help! Bye~” like WHAT ABOUT ME. WHAT ABOUT MY PROBLEMS. CAN YOU GIVE ME A HUG

So on a certain level, I wanted a game where instead of the characters around you having problems, the main character also has problems. And is subconsciously screaming “CAN YOU PLEASE NOTICE I HAVE PROBLEMS AND GIVE ME A HUG.” And hopefully, the characters notice. Winks

Hm. I do want to say I wrote most of the prologue/ISAT during the pandemic, and I felt very lonely and not supported. But then guess what. I told my friends about how I felt. And most of them told me they had no idea, and vowed to support me more. And now I’m closer to them. So the moral of this answer is, yeah, it’d be nice if people noticed, but also, you need to tell people when you’re feeling bad. LOOKS AT SIFFRIN

Anon asked:

Is there a song you listen to in order to put yourself in the sasasa/ISAT mindset?

I have a whole playlist baybee. Before you ask: there aren’t any hidden meanings behind those song choices. It’s about the Mood, and also my personal tastes in music I listen to when I need to concentrate. I like songs that go WUB WUB

 In no particular order, here are five random songs I played on repeat when making the prologue:

Future Club (Arcade Version) by Perturbator (in bold because this was THE song I listened to on repeat. I believe I gave it to Lindar for inspiration lol)

Arcades by C2C

Wake Me Up by Para One

The First Wish by DROELOE

Les Enfants du Paradis by World’s End Girlfriend

And here are five random songs I played on repeat for In Stars and Time:

Down by Chloe x Halle

Nonsense Bungaku by Eve

Non-Breathe Oblige by PinocchioP

Gentle Heart by Jamie Paige

Ready For The Floor by Hot Chip

It’s interesting, the songs I listened to for the prologue are generally more heavy and frenetic, while the ones for ISAT are more hopeful… I made sure to listen to more lively songs for ISAT, since that’s the feeling I wanted to give off…

That’s all the questions I have! In other, non related ISAT news, I have started a new project and having a lot of fun. It’s a visual novel this time. I’m hoping to get some screenshots ready in the next few months, but also I’m taking it easy on this one. If it takes years with many breaks in between to get it done, it’s fine. What matters to me right now is the process!

That’s all I have to say for today! Let me know if you have any questions, or if there’s any aspect of the game development struggle you’d like me to talk about! See you next time!!!

AND DON’T FORGET TO WISHLIST THE GAME ON STEAM ALSO IT REALLY HELPS BECAUSE STEAM’S ALGORITHM IS MORE LIKELY TO SHOW OFF GAMES WITH A HIGH AMOUNT OF WISHLISTS THAT’S THE REASON WHY GAME DEVS ALWAYS ASK TO WISHLIST!!! OKAY BYE!!!!

[polin-erospsyche]

After the completely unhinged response to Luke doing something perfectly normal in his personal life has me thinking I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t come back after season 4 should they get more seasons.

I am also once again in complete awe of Nicola’s talent for PR and knowing what the fandom needs, she’s really done damage control for him, and he’s seemingly letting her, so I think conversations have been had.

The whole thing has definately made me want to step back, I’m so disappointed in the reaction to what’s been going on. The nasty comments towards Luke, and his partner are not acceptable.

And the last one … I mean not quite, but let’s answer them!

The problem is … I don’t really know what to say 😅 things have died down. It’s been a week.

I do remember thinking that things were crazy though.

I think the problem is the sheer size Bridgerton, as a show, has become and the role of social media in our lives. Due to photos and videos circulating 24/7, info circulates extremely fast. I think fandoms must have been, once before social media (just goes to show how young I am lol) crazy but not this crazy. Fans now believe that they are entitled to the privacy of stars, almost as if the exchange for stardom and fame is privacy. This is partially true, and in certain instances has done a lot of harm to some people.

The problem as well is fans not only believe they are entitled to the privacy of actors and people in the limelight, but because how much fake there is out there, there’s been a desperate attempt to find authenticity. Thus resulting in very angry fans when on some level they feel like they’ve been had.

We are not entitled to an actor’s private life. An actor is a person who is doing a job and getting paid for it. They should not be harassed because they are doing their job and dare to have a life outside of their job that does not match with the PR they’ve been doing for whatever media they’re promoting.

I’ve heard the problem is not about him hard launching his girlfriend. I’ve also read the problem is that he is claiming his privacy yet posted photos of his hotel. It seems that no matter what he does he is in the wrong. And no matter what Nic does she is untouchable.

Ok. If that is how people feel and want to see it.

I’m not saying she hasn’t done a fantastic job at PR, because she did. I’m not saying she isn’t good at her job either, because she is. I’m just pointing out this duality that seems to exist between the two of them. When really, we don’t know him and we don’t know her. Their private lives is not their PR work or what they choose to show on insta, it’s just part of it, it’s the tip of the iceberg.

Anyway, we need to stop thinking we are owed anything by these two strangers. The only thing they owe us is one hell of a good time with the show and when the tour was happening, because that is what was in their contract and that is what they were paid to do. I know, not glamorous, but it’s the plain and simple truth. But then again, some of the things I’ve come across on Twitter … shippers of Luke and Nic are in a whole other boat of their own making. And from the outside it looks a bit like the Titanic hitting an iceberg and all of them trying to cling on for dear life even as the boat plunges headfirst into the freezing waters

[my-mt-heart]

I'm terrified that enough people are against Caryl that it won't happen...just for fear of the backlash. It gets hate by so many people. It's just so discouraging to be a Caryl shipper. I block people everyday but you still see it and still know it's there. I just need to know that I can have hope. Cause right now....I don't. Because our chances of canon not happening are pretty good based on what we know so far and what history has shown us

Twitter’s not a great place to be for one’s mental health and it’s also not reliable for market research at the moment either because of the many conflicting narratives. For example, I’m seeing a lot of Carylers overstate their faith in TBOC for whatever it turns out to be publicly while only expressing what they actually want from it or what worries them about it in private spaces. Because TOWL’s promo circuit hinged on competition and tearing others down to raise the show’s characters up, defense mechanisms have gone up. Carylers’ focus has shifted to surviving the unethical marketing and bullying from other fans by creating the illusion that they’re “winning.”

Seeing Caryl/Carol haters account for the majority of the viewers? That’s another illusion. Their online presence is at an all-time high right now because TWDU has been very good about validating them and feeding their need for there to only be one indisputable female lead in the franchise when they should be promoting inclusivity for all six characters leading spinoffs. They've encouraged more bullying and more Carylers being pushed offline. That Vahalla tweet in particular shows they aren't zeroing in on the target audience for the next upcoming spinoff. With one post, they alienated an audience they've been trying to engage with for months and now there's literally no safe space for that audience to engage with content.

It makes *zero* sense for AMC to hinder Caryl and their fans to please fans of other characters in a different show because they can’t rely on them to keep tuning in for characters they don’t actually care about. They need to niche down to a reliable audience that they can nurture and grow. It doesn't mean they shouldn't draw viewers who are interested in different aspects of the show, but those interests shouldn't be in direct conflict with the core viewership either. That means they need a showrunner, social media managers, marketing strategies, and storylines to validate Caryl fans’ perspective (that Daryl and Carol are equals, that they are romantic, etc.). Think back to when the original spinoff was announced in 2020 and how many people were encouraged to come back if they had left or become more active in the fandom (I started a blog 👋). Tons of fan content was being created and Caryl were dominating mainstream polls like TV Guide’s Endgame ship poll. We need that positive reinforcement again because it’ll make the Caryl viewership stronger and the stronger we are, the easier it is to drown out the ageists and other haters.

[anghraine]

Hello! Sorry if this seems out of the blue and naive, but I have to ask: Do you write about P&P on an academic level and if so, is the fact that you write thoughtful near-academic content about it on social media detrimental to that? Basically I am trying to ask this:

Are you allowed to write academically about something after you wrote so much about it on social media? Especially since what you write about it isn’t, you know, “memes”, but textual analysis?

Again, sorry if this sounds weird and ignorant, but I also wrote extensively about my favorite novel on here and I also one day want to write about it on an academic level, but I don’t know if it is “allowed”, so to speak?

Sorry if this is a personal question. You can answer it in private if you want to or ignore it.

Hello! It's no problem.

I've written about P&P for grad school (both in my MA and PhD) and a bit in my dissertation, but much more about Mansfield Park. That's about all I've done with P&P academically. I've actually had more ... let's say, success as externally defined with early modern (Renaissance) stuff, which I also specialized in. So there's that.

But there's also the fact that my style and approach are quite different between academia and fandom. My Tumblr style is probably more academia-adjacent than is usual (partly for autism reasons, to be sure), but it's still comparatively casual for me and integrates fandom conventions far more than my academic work, so even when I talk about ideas that I initially was thinking through in Tumblr posts, I handle the discussion differently in an academic context and tend to advance it very differently.

So there's not much of a connection in terms of my colleagues and there isn't really anyone who's going to say, well, this basic point in the larger discussion was already made in a different context on anghraine dot tumblr dot com, you don't get to talk about it. I do avoid talking about ideas that strike me as really novel or really specific to me on social media, though.

That said, while I've maintained some separation between my Anghraine social media presence and my academic one, a lot of academics rely on social media to publicize their work and engage with other academics (for better and worse) outside the glacial pace of academic publishing.

I used to have a Twitter account for that (before the reign of Musk) and I'd just ramble on about academic stuff, including Austen, and it was usually in respect to Austen that I'd have really interesting conversations with considerably more advanced academics than me. People aren't going to want to share so much that full publications are meaningless, but they do often share enough to participate in academic discourses.

But another factor for me personally is that I actually try to avoid mixing full-throttle academic work and the works I love the most. People talk a lot about finding a way to commodify integrate what you love most into work and making it a kind of vocation, but for me, at least, that does not remotely work. It just drains the joy out of something I used to love.

I could have specialized in sci-fi/fantasy scholarship, for instance, and it would likely have been much easier in some ways, but it would also likely have soured me on SF/F (my great love otherwise). That was one of the main reasons I decided not to do it and instead went with things that interested me quite a bit, but not too much. So I tend to shy away from thoroughly mixing things that are extremely important and joyful for me with academia.

When it comes to stories I love, I kind of relate to them like a dragon with a hoard, you know? Nobody's going to take this from me! So a lot of the things I write about academically have rarely or never shown up in my fandom content because I maintain that bit of distance.

So it can be a bit complicated. I would say that I imagine publicizing some ideas makes them less likely to be published, but at other times, it's helpful in connecting with people and becoming part of academic discourse. It really depends, which is probably not very useful despite the length of this response. But there aren't many people who are in a position to allow or disallow me to write professionally about whatever I want and am professionally equipped to discuss.

[bloobydabloob]

do u have any other social medias blooby

Hello anon, no not really. My bad.

I technically have an art Reddit (@bobbydabob456) but I delete everything I post on it. I’m also unsure if I’ll ever even use it again considering I don’t enjoy interacting with the kind of people that use Reddit (for the most part). I have a tumblr now. No need for that.

I am very familiar with homestuck twitter and the art scene there specifically, so if people wanted me to make an art account there I probably would. I’ve had two twitter art accounts before but the first one I deleted after like a week, and the second one I abandoned for tumblr haha. It has now devolved into a shitpost account for me and my friends.

What this guy said.

I have private accounts on instagram and twitter too, but I don’t think you have any interest in that. They’re for buddies and people I meet at conventions really. I just spam post whatever on there.

I appreciate the interest though. I would run art accounts in more places but it is a miracle that this tumblr is still going after like 2 weeks, I have a very prevalent tendency to up and delete my accounts very quickly. I get nervous too easily… whoops.

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

Scrape

I want to talk about the recent news of Tumblr and Wordpress parent company Automattic being in talks to sell user content to AI companies OpenAI and Midjourney to train their models on. All that we know is currently in that sentence, by the way; the talks are still in progress and the company’s not super transparent about it, which makes sense to me.

What doesn’t make sense to me is the fact that a lot of Internet users seem to think this is outrageous, or new, or somehow strange behaviour for a large company, or that it is just starting. It seems obvious, given AI companies’ proclivities to go ahead and then ask forgiveness, not permission to do the thing, that Tumblr/Wordpress users’ public data has already been hoovered up into the gaping maw of the LLM training sets and this is a mea-culpa gesture; not so much a business proposal as a sheepish admission of guilt and monetary compensation. One wonders what would have happened had they not been called out.

When I was in publishing school back in the early twenty-teens, it was drilled into us that any blog content could be considered published and therefore disqualified from any submission to a publication unless they were specifically asking for previously published pieces. There was at that time a dawning awareness that whatever you had put on the internet (or continued to put out there) was not going to go away. Are you familiar with how Facebook saves everything that you type, even if you don’t post it? That was the big buzz, back then. Twitter was on the rise, and so was Tumblr, and in that context, it seemed a bit naïve to assume that anything written online would ever be private again (if it ever was in the first place…). It was de rigeur for me to go into my privacy settings on Facebook and adjust them in line with updates every few months.

So, for example, this little post of mine here wouldn’t really count as submittable material unless I substantially added to or changed it in some way before approaching a publisher with it. (The definition of “substantially” is up to said publisher, of course.) This might have changed with time (and depending on location), but my brain latched on to it and I find it safest to proceed from this assumption. For the record, I don’t think it’s foolish or naive for internet users to have the opposite assumption, and trust that the companies whose platforms they are using will handle their content in a respectful way and guard their privacy. That should be the baseline. It is a right and correct impulse, taken egregious advantage of by the morally bankrupt.

In any case, I at first have interpreted this whole debacle as …slightly empowering to users, in a way, as now there are opt-out procedures that Tumblr users can take to put the kibosh on a process that is already happening, and now this scraping of data will be monitored by the parent site, instead of operating according to a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy. I have to wonder if the same will be extended to Reddit users, or the commenters on CNN or Fox news. And whether my first impression will bear up under any weight of scrutiny whatsoever.

On social media, I assume that everything I post will always and forever be accessible to anyone with enough skills (or money) to want to access it. Same with email, anything in “the cloud” that is not hosted on a double-encrypted server, my search engine preferences, and really any site that I have a login for. My saving grace thus far has been that I am a boring person with neither fame nor wealth nor enemies with a reason to go after me. Facebook got big when I was in my undergraduate years; given that social media was extremely nascent back then, I put a lot of stuff up that I shouldn’t have. Data that I care about. Things I would like to keep secret, keep safe. But I’ve long made my peace with the fact that the internet has known everything about everything I was willing to put up about me for my entire adult life and continues to grasp for more and more. At least on Tumblr, I can say “no”, and then get righteously indignant when that “no” is inevitably ignored and my rights violated.

I hate this state of affairs. But I also want to be able to talk to my family, connect with other solarpunks, do research, communicate with my colleagues … to live in a society, one might say. I try not to let it bother me much. However, I DO sign anything and everything that comes my way from the Electronic Frontier Foundation, an organization dedicated to legislating the shit out of these corporations that have given us free tickets to unlimited knowledge and communication for the price of our personal data, and effectively excommunicated anyone who does not agree to their TOS. The EFF is US-based, but given that most of the social media and AI giants on the internet are also US-based, I feel like it’s relevant.

In my solarpunk future, the internet does still exist, and we can access and use it as much or as little as we like. But it is tightly controlled so that the reckless appropriation and use of art, writing, content, personal data, cannot happen and is not the fee charged for participation in the world wide web. I want to live in a world where my personal data is my own but I can still reach out to my friends and family whenever I’d like, about whatever I want; isn’t that a nice thought?